


The End or the Beginning?

by jackandsamforever



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: AU, Beginning set in season one, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3351317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackandsamforever/pseuds/jackandsamforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrorist attacks have left Liz and Red on the run. What happens when they finally find somewhere safe? AU. Beginning is set in season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is AU, obviously, but I find that I like these "end of the world, trying to survive" kind of fics. They allow for much more leeway with the characters. So I hope you'll give this a chance, and let me know what you think. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to The Blacklist

In the beginning, the terrorists only hit the nation's most populated areas; Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Philadelphia; killing millions and millions. Not allowing the US to strike back, nor allowing them to catch their breath.

Eventually it was quiet for a time, and it finally allowed what remained of the cities to begin picking up the pieces. To mourn the dead. To begin rebuilding. To form a game plan. To start to question why the terrorists hadn't struck Washington DC when they had the chance.

But the quiet hadn't lasted long.

The President assured them that the military had found the parties responsible for the attacks and had eliminated them. Had promised that it wouldn't happen again. Had promised with a fake smile that they were finally safe.

Lies. All lies.

OOOOOO

Three months after the last attack on Philadelphia, Elizabeth Keen was once again working late inside the depths of the PO. She had been working tirelessly with other agencies (the ones that were left, at least), and with Red, trying to identify rogue terrorist cells, because they'd been assured that the big ones had been eliminated.

Something wasn't adding up.

Liz stared at the latest readings on the screen in front of her with furrowed eyebrows, confused about what she was seeing. She turned to Red to ask him if she was imagining things, but he was sitting in the chair behind her, fast asleep. She should have known. It had been quiet for far too long.

She sighed and glanced at the clock and saw that it was after 1:00 AM. She couldn't really be angry at him for sleeping, seeing as they were the only two people left inside the building, and he really didn't have to be there.

She had formed an uneasy alliance with the secretive man, but she still didn't trust him. He was withholding information from her and the FBI and it made her angry. Of course, he had been there for her when her marriage had fallen apart, had held her when she couldn't hold the tears in any longer, but she still didn't have many warm feelings towards Raymond Reddington.

Everything had fallen apart once he'd entered her life; personally and for the nation.

Realistically, she knew it wasn't ALL his fault, but he was the easiest to blame, and he let her rant and rave at him without fighting back. It wasn't all that fair to him, but she felt he deserved at least some of her ire. She was living in a hotel, homeless, fatherless, and husbandless; she didn't have anyone else besides him.

That scared her the most.

Sighing again, she reached out and nudged his shoulder with her hand. He snorted quietly, but didn't wake up. Liz rolled her eyes and slapped his scruffy face softly a few times. "Reddington, wake up."

His eyes flew open, almost panicked. "Wha-, Lizzie, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, annoyed, and turned back to the computer. "I need you to look at this readout. Something's off, but I don't have enough experience reading these things to know for sure what it is."

Red stretched his arms over his head and yawned widely, his unbuttoned vest falling to his sides, revealing his white, slightly wrinkled shirtsleeves and loosened tie. Liz, of course, didn't notice any of it.

He finally stood up and joined her in front of the monitor. She pointed a finger at the screen, showing him the part she didn't understand. Red pursed his lips and scrutinized the screen for a few moments, mumbling quietly under his breath.

She counted out thirty full seconds and he still hadn't moved an inch. She tapped her foot impatiently. "Well?"

She could see his lips moving at a rapid pace now, his features radiating concern.

"Reddington, answer me." She read the information again from over his shoulder and still couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Finally, he straightened and grabbed her arm, then started to pull her away from the workstation. He didn't even take the time to grab his coat or fedora. "We have to get out of here. Now."

She let him drag her to the elevator, but stood her ground and shook his hand off once they stopped to wait for it to open. "What the hell, Red?"

"Lizzie, I don't have time to answer questions. Just know this, Washington DC, along with many other cities are going to be rubble rather quickly. We have to get out of here. Now." His soft, strained voice scared her more than if he was actually yelling.

As the elevator doors opened, they stepped inside and she turned to him again. "There's no way you're right. The military would have already detected the threat and stopped it. They learned their lesson after the last-"

He cut her off, his brows narrowed and agitation practically rolling off of him in waves. "Your government doesn't ever learn its lesson. They're so confident that they eliminated the threat. They will never admit they were wrong, and therein lies the danger. Do you want to be caught in the barrage, or would you rather stay here and face the possible consequences of their false confidence?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it once she realized he was right. "I'm going to at least call Cooper and have him alert the military."

Red laughed humorlessly as he grabbed her elbow again and steered her towards his car. "Do whatever you like, but they won't listen to you."

She pulled her phone out to call, but growled in agitation when she saw that it didn't have any service. As they slid into the backseat of his car, she turned to him. "Do you have cell service?"

He pulled his burner phone out of his pants pocket and shook his head. "Looks like its already begun," he said grimly, then leaned forward and patted Dembe on the shoulder. "Take us to the shelter, Dembe."

She looked at Red incredulously. "But we have to warn people. Ressler, Meera, Cooper, the damn Government!"

"Lizzie," he said tiredly. "There's no time. I'm sorry."

"No. I can't accept that. I won't. Let me out." She tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Let me out, dammit!"

"I'm sorry, Lizzie."

OOOOOO

**ONE YEAR LATER**

Liz groaned tiredly as a sliver of sunlight settled over her eyes, waking her up just in time for another day of hell. She was tired. The bone deep, life-weary kind of tired that never went away no matter how much sleep she got. She turned away from the curtainless window and pulled her scratchy pillow over her head. Maybe she would be able to get a few more minutes of sleep before the wake-up siren sounded. But instead of sleep, she found her thoughts drifting back over the last year. Again.

The year everything changed.

The year where she was no longer Elizabeth Keen.

The year where she became "Lillian".

The year where she became "Jack Robertson's" "wife".

The year where she became just another face among thousands desperately fighting to stay alive.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light tap on her bedroom door; but instead of answering, she burrowed deeper into the uncomfortable twin mattress and ignored whoever it was. Probably Red, or "Jack" as people around the camp knew him as. Or maybe Red had grown tired of dragging her out of bed every morning and sent Dembe this time.

She didn't care either way. It wasn't like she had a choice anymore. She was expected to work if she wanted to eat and have a roof over her head. No matter the cost to her body or psyche, and no matter how pathetic the food and shelter were.

Liz usually tried to avoid thinking about why they were in this situation. She tried to forget that everyone she knew or loved was most likely dead. That she literally didn't know anyone else on the planet besides Red and Dembe. That she was expected to keep up a facade that she was married to Red in front of others when she could hardly stand to be in his presence in private.

Yes, he had saved her life, but he was still Raymond Reddington. Infuriating, secretive, outlandish and a shameless flirt. And he still refused to tell her anything about her past; which frustrated her to no end. He hadn't changed all that much since everything went to hell, but she wasn't the same person. Not even close. It felt like her previous thirty-two years of life had been a dream, and that her situation now had always been her reality. She had a hard time even recalling her married years with Tom.

She hated her life and she hated herself. She knew she was most likely depressed, but it wasn't like there was medication readily available in this new world. So she pressed on and pretended the best she could. She was certain Red knew how unhappy she was, but they didn't talk unless it was necessary, so he never brought it up, and she certainly never raised the subject.

Another knock sounded at her door, harder this time, but she still didn't answer. Let whoever it was come in and bodily drag her out of her cocoon. Why not? It might be the highlight of her day.

She let her thoughts drift again; unable to stop herself.

It had been Red's idea to pretend they were married. The days, weeks, months after the terrorist attacks had been harrowing and dangerous, and he had saved her life more than once. He eventually convinced her to go along with pretending to be married after they joined with a group of people heading towards a camp that had been rumored to be a safe haven. The men in that group had been foul and disgusting, making lewd remarks about her body and insinuations that made the hairs on her neck stand up. So she made a point to attach herself to Red's side and refer to him as her husband from then on. The men had backed off after that.

They moved from place to place for weeks, moving from group to group, but she never stopped pretending; never gave anyone a chance to get her alone. But she was still aloof with him and didn't let him touch her unless it was absolutely necessary. If the other people noticed, they never said anything; for which she was grateful.

After four months of searching, four months of starvation, four months of desperation, they finally found somewhere moderately safe. Which was were they found themselves now. It wasn't ideal, but without Red's resources and money, they didn't have many options, so they stayed put. They'd been there for almost six months; it felt more like ten years.

She heard her bedroom door crack open, but she still didn't move or open her eyes. She listened closely to the quiet breathing and sighed quietly when she realized it was Red. She didn't feel like fighting today.

"Lizzie, it's time to get up," he said tiredly. She could tell he had only poked his head in. He had been less and less affectionate with her over the months as she pushed him away. In a way she resented him for it, but that wasn't reasonable or fair, really. She was cold and ungrateful, but she couldn't seem to make herself show any weakness in front of him...even if she wanted to break down and sob in his arms and let him comfort her.

Liz held her breath as she waiting for him to decide what to do. Their little hut only consisted of her bedroom and a kind of living area with a fire pit in the middle of the floor. Red and Dembe slept in that room on the floor, letting her have her privacy, which she was grateful for. They rarely had visitors, and when they did, Red moved his few possessions into her room to keep up appearances. No one in the camp was any wiser about their situation, and she hoped it stayed that way.

The door opened wider and he stepped in and closed it behind him. She rolled her eyes; it seemed he wasn't going to leave her alone. She heard shuffling paper and narrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Paper supplies were extremely limited and were only used when absolutely necessary. Now she was intrigued.

"Lizzie, I know you're awake. You're not snoring." There was a slight hint of amusement in his voice. She hadn't heard that in a while.

She sat up and turned towards him, giving up all pretense of sleeping. "I don't snore."

His mouth quirked for a moment. "I think you could wake the dead if that were possible."

She frowned further, angered by his deliberate goading. Instead of giving him the satisfaction by lashing out, she eyed the papers in his hand. "What's that?"

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down at the paper again. She couldn't help but notice that he had already dressed for the day in an old pair of dark blue jeans and a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She refused to admire how the muscles in his forearms flexed as he shuffled the papers between his hands.

He would have to go to his "job" soon, judging by the position of the sun. She would have to too, which meant long hours bent over a tub of dirty, soapy water washing clothes. Ugh. Red's job wasn't much better though, he had been assigned firewood duty today.

Liz cleared her throat expectantly as she reached up to try to tame her wild, flyaway hair into a bun. "Red?"

He was still chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked up at her with wary eyes. She wondered why she was the only one he allowed himself to show any emotion to. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

"You're not going to like this."

She finally managed to arrange her hair and stood up from the mattress onto cold, stiff feet; her back protested severely, but she kept her face neutral. "There are a lot of things I don't like Red. At the moment, it's you coming into my room without permission then refusing to tell me what the problem is. Spit it out, for hell's sake."

He sniffed and looked at the paper again, then began to read from it:

_It has hereby been voted by the Council that all married couples_

_must procreate and provide our community with at least one child_

_within the next eighteen months. This decision has been made because_

_of our dwindling membership and the premature deaths of many after_

_the tragic accident in the forest. If you do not wish to comply or are_

_unable to, you will be removed from the community and not allowed_

_back in. I hope you will all come to understand our decision in time._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Community Council_

Liz stood in shocked silence as she tried to comprehend what she'd heard. She had been rubbing her sore lower back as she listened, but now her hand was forgotten as she stared at Red with her mouth slightly ajar. He still hadn't looked up from the paper.

She finally found her voice after what seemed like hours.

"They want us to do what?!"


	2. Chapter 2

Red winced at her screeching, but didn't try to stop her as she paced in front of him, waving her hands wildly as she ranted.

"They can't seriously be expecting people to bring a child into this kind of world. Have they gone insane?! Not only is it dangerous for the child, it's dangerous for the woman too. They don't have proper medical facilities. What if something happened and the woman bled out? Or what if a baby was born three months early?"

She paused when he didn't reply and leveled a look at him. He hadn't moved an inch besides continuing to chew the inside of his cheek. She huffed in annoyance and turned to sit back down on her bed. Her anger leaving almost as soon as it had come.

Deflated, she studied her toes and mumbled, "I'm sorry, Red. I know this isn't your fault...at least not this part," she said in an even lower voice. Too quietly for him to hear.

"Well I'd say don't shoot the messenger, but I'm afraid it's too late for that." She winced as she waited for him to continue. "I'm not sure what can be done. We can leave if you think that's a better option." His voice was clipped, as if he was trying not to take his frustrations out on her as she had already done with him. Sometimes she hated being so emotional. Growing up, her mouth had gotten her in trouble more than a few times.

She sighed loudly. "Of course I don't think that's a better option. Where would we go?"

Liz glanced up in time to see him shrug one shoulder as he leaned his back against the door.

"I'm sure we could find somewhere to go. We always have."

She shook her head, twisting her hands together in thought. "Nowhere safer than here. No, I don't want to leave."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's fine Lizzie, but you're going to have to become a better actress if you want the others to think we're actually married. I'm positive they don't believe our little lie, and haven't said anything because they've had no reason to. That's going to change."

She looked back up, fear written all over her face. "Red, if they don't think we're really married, what will they do? Will they make me marry someone else and force me to breed with them?" She felt panicked at the thought. While having a child with Red didn't sound appealing, having one with a stranger was out of the question.

He straightened and approached her cautiously; like a wounded animal that keeps returning to its abusive master. It stung to see him like this. The once proud Raymond Reddington, who had insinuated himself into her life and controlled it like a chess game, now treated her like she was some kind of delicate flower. When had that change happened? When had they become so broken?

He stopped a foot or so from her; she could feel his eyes boring into the top of her head. She continued to stare at his work boots, afraid to see the look in his eyes.

Finally he spoke, his voice low and full of some emotion she couldn't decipher. "That's why you need to do what they ask without causing problems. If you do what they say, they won't question us further. I fear if you raise a fuss, they'll take you away..." It was clear he wanted to add "from me" at the end, but he trailed off instead, waiting for her to answer him.

She took a deep breath and sat up straight, but stared at Red's legs, unable to make eye contact with him. "Then I'll do what I have to do to convince them that we're married, but we'll stall as long as possible to have a...baby." She choked out "baby" as if it was a swearword. The thought of having sex with Red confused her already muddled feelings about him. She wasn't sure she even _liked_ him, and now she was going to have to become a breeding cow and pop out little Reds. She almost wasn't able to stop the disgust from showing on her face at the thought. He was her protector, and maybe her friend, but that was it.

At least she'd thought so.

She finally looked up to see him staring out the window behind her; his face an expressionless mask. He looked as if he was debating whether or not to say what was on his mind, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Finally, he glanced at her and muttered a quiet, "Fine", then turned on his heel and left. Not quite slamming the door behind him.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What the hell was that all about? Why did he care if she was angry about being forced to have his children? Already exhausted and tired of thinking, she turned to the window and swore softly when she saw the position of the sun. She was going to be late. Again. Her "manager" was going to be beside herself. Liz had already been warned twice that there would be consequences if it happened again.

She stood up and began to dress for the day in her work clothes. A faded pair of light blue jeans and a loose fitting men's t-shirt, with ratty old tennis shoes that had more holes than not. She wouldn't eat to save some time, even though she was far too skinny in the first place. What did it matter anyway?

She felt like a slave.

OOOOOO

Twelve hours later, Liz practically dragged her body through the entrance to their hut. She had indeed been punished for her tardiness, and had been given an extra two hours of hard labor shoveling out the stables. Her hands were blistered and raw, and her feet were wet and smelled like manure. She was absolutely miserable.

Red and Dembe glanced up at her entrance, the smiles fading from their faces. "There you are," Red remarked as he put his spoon down. They had started dinner without her. Lovely.

Instead of saying anything, she glared at him and toed her shoes off before stepping into the room. "You're little announcement this morning made me late for work and I got a lovely extra two hours for it. Thanks for your concern about my whereabouts," she said sarcastically, not in the mood to keep things civil.

Instead of rising to the bait, he stood up slowly and walked over to the corner where she could see a little pot steaming with something that smelt heavenly. She hadn't had a chance to eat all day.

As he began to dish her up whatever it was into a bowl, she sat down next to Dembe with a groan. Her feet were absolutely killing her. Dembe patted her knee and tried to give her a reassuring look. "He was worried for you, and only came home twenty minutes ago after he was assured you were safe." That made her feel a little better, but she still wasn't going to apologize. She was too tired for that.

Red turned and handed her the bowl and a spoon, then sat down on her other side and picked his own food back up. She didn't register what she was eating until the very last bite, and even then her stomach was still growling. "Is there any more?" She scraped her bowl as best she could, disappointed that it was already gone.

Instead of answering, Red handed her his bowl. She didn't thank him as she set hers down and resumed eating his. She didn't even bother using her own spoon. They all sat in silence as she ate, apparently she'd dampened the mood with her attitude. What a surprise.

After she scraped out Red's bowl, she piled it on top of hers and sat back against the wall with a satisfied sigh. At least she didn't feel like dying anymore.

Liz closed her eyes and addressed the room. "So what were you two smiling about when I walked in?"

She groaned as she straightened her tired, aching legs; she couldn't feel her feet any longer. She probably should be more worried about it, but at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe she would lose feeling in her legs and no longer have to work. It wasn't altogether an unappealing thought, as horrible as it sounded.

"Oh, Dembe here was just telling one of his infamous jokes."

A small smile flitted across her face. Dembe's jokes were actually quite funny. He reminded her of Teal'c from one of her favorite TV shows growing up, _Stargate SG-1_. He was serious most of the time, but when he cracked a joke, it usually made her laugh. She didn't know where she would be without Dembe. Probably dead, or close to it. Why hadn't she pretended to be married to him? It would have made things much easier to handle.

Especially now.

Liz took a deep breath and sat up again. She wished she could take a hot shower and sleep until the weekend, but unfortunately, she couldn't do either. They were only allowed to bathe twice a week, in cold water. And sleeping in, even on the weekends, was unheard of. Damn this wretched place.

She felt a hand on her back between her shoulder blades. Too small to be Dembe's. "Lizzie, are you ok?"

She glanced at him, ready to rip into him for asking such a stupid question, but when she saw the concern on his face, her shoulders sagged. "Not really. I'm in a lot of pain, but there's not much that can be done about that."

His hand still hadn't left her back. She didn't know if she wanted him to move it or not, so she didn't say anything. "What hurts the most?" He asked quietly, his face closer to hers than she realized.

"My feet," she finally admitted after a lengthy pause. "I can't feel them anymore."

His hand finally left her back as he scooted forward then patted his lap. "Lay your head here and put your feet in Dembe's lap. He gives the best foot rubs."

Her brain warred with her heart about what to do. On one hand, she really wanted that foot rub, but on the other, she didn't want to lay her head in Red's lap. It felt too personal. Too _intimate_.

She almost laughed at herself. She was going to have to be doing things a lot more invasive than that if they were going to be staying at the camp.

Seeing her hesitance, he lifted a cushion from the floor and put it over his thighs. Of course he'd guessed why she was hesitant, but he didn't seem hurt or upset. Thank goodness.

She laid her head on the pillow gingerly, making sure not to touch him if she could help it, then put her legs on Dembe's. Immediately, he stripped her muddy, wet socks off and tossed them in a corner with the other dirty clothes.

His quiet voice washed over her as she closed her eyes. "Try to relax," he said simply, then began to knead her left foot. She almost moaned in pleasure. Nothing had ever felt so good in her life. As Dembe worked on her feet, Red placed his calloused fingers at her temples and began to rub soothing circles there. She tensed for a second, but Dembe hit a particularly sore spot on her heel and she instantly relaxed, no longer caring that Red was touching her. Besides, her headache was dissipating with every stroke of his strong fingers, so she had no right to complain.

Too soon, Red was was shaking her awake from her peaceful slumber. When she opened her eyes groggily, she saw that the lanterns had been dimmed and Dembe was on the other side of the room, asleep. How long had she been out of it?

She sat up slowly, aided by Red carefully pushing her shoulders, and turned to look at him. He spoke before she could. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I can't feel my legs any longer and you need to sleep on a mattress or you won't be able to work tomorrow."

She tried to smile. "You didn't have to let me sleep on you."

He looked at her with unreadable eyes. "Yes, I did."

When he didn't elaborate, she sighed and stood up. Her body felt much, much better. "Well...thank you." She smiled a little and watched as he stood up.

He grabbed her elbow softly and began to lead her towards her bedroom. "What are you doing?

He snorted quietly, "I'm helping you across a dark room so you don't trip and break your leg."

She rolled her eyes but let him be chivalrous; that was the least she could do. As they tiptoed over cushions and blankets, a thought occurred to her and she stopped dead.

"Is Dembe going to have to get married?" She whispered urgently, not wanting to wake up the man who was snoring softly across the room.

Red shrugged and tugged on her elbow. "I'm not sure. There's a "meeting" tomorrow that we're all required to attend. I imagine they'll give us more details then."

She didn't mind having to go to a meeting, that meant less time working herself to death.

When they reached her door, she faced him and gave him a small smile. She hadn't smiled this often in as long as she could remember, and briefly wondered what was wrong with her.

After he released her elbow, she reached up and squeezed his bicep. "Thanks for giving me your food and somewhere to rest my head."

He nodded, but she couldn't read his face very well in the darkness. "No need to thank me, Lizzie." His voice was gentle, and she wondered what he was thinking. They hadn't fought since she'd gotten home; that had to be a record. She was confused at the feelings he was evoking in her and quickly dropped her hand from his arm.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and turned to open the door. Before she could take two steps, he stopped her with a hand on her arm, "Lizzie, I...," he trailed off, apparently thinking twice about what he was going to say. She looked at him curiously, but he mumbled something under his breath and let go of her. "Never mind, it can wait. Sweet dreams."

She wanted to question him further, but her eyes were already drooping tiredly. He was right, they could talk later. Maybe even civilly, for once.

"Night, Red," she murmured, then walked into her room and shut the door. Her last image was of him with his hands stuffed in his pockets looking perplexed.

Something had changed, she just wasn't sure what. She quickly dressed for bed and laid down on the hard mattress, hoping that sleep would take her quickly.

She laid awake for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos. I really appreciate them! I know this was a lot of talking and probably boring stuff, but next chapter we'll meet other people from the community. And Red and Liz acting "married" in front of others. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)


End file.
